Brief lives

More death this trip. All but two of my lovely celeriacs have gone. And now I am completely cucumber-less. I found three fat slugs right at the base of one of the cucumber plants so the culprits were easily recognised.

So it’s back to square one. Sow the seeds and hope that I don’t miss the growing season entirely this year. It’s enough to drive an organic gardener to the poisons shelf in the garden centre. I have placed netting over the last remaining celeriac plants. They do look rather forlorn. Luckily the corn next to the celeriac bed has taken off and looks like it will survive any attacks. But I wish I didn’t have to lose so much of my crop.

The weather has been so cool that my tomato plants are huddling. But the broad beans have put on a lot of growth. I may even have a crop soon. Just need to wait for the little pods to swell. Flowers on the peas, some flowers on the potatoes, some of the cabbage may just make it.

I watered like mad and checked over all the little seedlings on the potting table. They all seem fine.

Sorry this is all so desultory. I wrote detailed notes about what happened this trip and have misplaced them. So I’m making it up one week too late. And in that week a fantastic amount of rain has fallen. Over three inches I believe – I was away. But freezing cold too, which will have checked any growth that may have been hoped during this early growing season. I haven’t time today to go up and inspect. It’s most frustrating not being able to get there, but I have another trip to take Friday, and won’t be able to go up before Tuesday. Well into June. Talk about a part-time gardener.

My plants from Sarah Raven arrived by post: some battered and fading, and all definitely too small to risk planting out. Lots of artichokes and plump pretty perennial flowers. I would go outside to where they are getting their sun kicks and read the labels, but it’s just too far for one in a lethargic state.

The good news is that there is even more activity on my neighbouring plot. About 20 feet of soil has been turned over – and it may mean that they are going to plant this year. Thank goodness. The march of bindweed over the bed and onto the path and into my climbing beans was becoming relentless. Perhaps on Tuesday I will go up and meet the mystery gardener.